Moments that Were and Weren't
by grey.fog
Summary: Cato/Clove. Moments in the lives of Clove and Cato from their childhood leading up to their deaths in the 74th Hunger Games. 8. Color, Birthday, Bound, Furious, Gold, Breakfast, Closer, Daylight, Gray. "We hold each other until it's daylight and I have never hated anything as much as I hated the sun rising."
1. Never Seen Green

Note: Soo I decided to do a 100 prompt challenge and I think I'm going to do Cato/Clove. I just want to see what kind of reception it will have. Please review and let me know if it's something that will be read. I like to write, but I like to know if what I'm writing is well received. Thanks

Title: Never Seen Green

Prompt: 28. Green

The sounds of wood hitting flesh are not pleasant, because it's usually me who's getting hit with the training sword. As it happens now. The trainer shows no mercy though.

"Again." He says, his voice deep and threatening. I hate the trainer. He always beats me and always looks smug about it. _Because it's so hard to beat a seven year old._ I think, but don't say. I don't have a death wish.

I thrust forward, parry, and shift backward. The wooden practice sword he's wielding smacks into my ribs with a painful thunk. "Pathetic. You'll never be a peace keeper let alone win in the Games." His voice joins the throb of the pain.

I grit my teeth and shift my weight and stance. I can hear the other boys snicker behind me, which only serves to fuel my anger. I've never been particularly good at controlling my temper. It's always been my downfall.

But it only fuels my desire to do better. I take a deep breath, trying to push the rage down. I grit my teeth and push forward again. He dodges out of the way at the last moment, and I stumble past him. I turn quickly, and there's a sound of wood hitting flesh again, but it's not mine that's being hit, and then I'm hitting the trainer with my sword.

My world is still for a moment_. I did it._ I, Cato, have finally hit the trainer.

And then I notice that his glare is not on me, but at an object at his feet. There's a small cut above his brow, the blood sluggish as it creeps downward. He wipes it away with the back of his hand as he stoops and picks up the object.

It's a training knife. Everyone's eyes shift toward the direction the weapon came from.

There's a girl, her eyes on the sword trainer even as her own trainer scolds her. Her gaze flickers to the older woman and straining my ears I can hear her voice. It's clear and high pitched in the way that little girl's voices are, although I don't think she's much younger than me.

"It slipped!" There is a look of bashfulness on her face that doesn't fit the look in her eyes when she trains them on me. And it's her eyes that capture me. They are laughing and triumphant all at once, as if we shared a secret. And they are a color I have no words to describe.

They are green, but a green so deep that it's a shade I've not learned in school yet. I've never seen green like that. Green eyes that widen, and I see that the sword trainer has raised his arm to throw it back. And the power behind it, unlike the girl's, would be enough to kill or seriously injure.

Almost without thinking I swing the practice sword again, and it leaves a welt along the man's ribs. He grunts and turns his dark eyes to me, angry, until I sneer and say, "Rule number four! Never let your guard down."

He drops his arm, and considers me for a moment before he states, "We may make a tribute of you yet, Cato. Back in line." The other boys aren't laughing now, as I join them, watching with some relief as the knife is thrown carelessly to the side. I watch as the girl retrieves it at her trainer's behest, and as she does so, she gives me one last look.

Clover. Her eyes are the color of clover.

X x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Too cheesy at the end? I thought it was fun :p Clover, clove, meh.


	2. Cato And Clove It sounds good together

Note: Well! Here is the second chapter, I'm going to try to put them in some sort of chronological order.

**Title: Cato and Clove; It Sounds Good Together**

_Prompt 003: Avoidance_

I have a feeling she's avoiding me. I've only caught glimpses of her since that day in the training grounds. She must be from a different part of the District, because I don't see her in the small school I attend. Or maybe she doesn't go school, maybe she learns at home.

I wait until the next training day with a certain amount of anxiousness. Normally it is something I look forward to anyway, but this time is different. I'm going to learn her name and I'm going to tell her thank you. Even if it stings my pride to do so. I shouldn't have needed her help. It turns out I don't even have to wait that long.

I catch a glimpse of dark brown pigtails and am now at full attention. She's moving fast, but I'm just as fast as I follow her through the market. Almost as if she feels me following her, she looks over her shoulder and her clover green eyes widen in surprise. And then she picks up speed and turns the corner.

Okay, so now it's not just a feeling. She _i_s avoiding me. I grit my teeth, I don't like not getting what I want. I round the corner and slowly come to a halt, my chest heaving. Where did she go? I have the urge to stomp my foot, I've never been good at keeping my temper under control.

But then there's a blur of movement to my right and then I'm on my back in the dirt with her straddling my stomach, her hand on my chest in attempt to hold me down. I expect her to look angry for some reason, but she's looking down at me with this goofy grin that makes my lips twitch too.

"Rule number 5." She says gleefully. I roll my eyes at her which seems to delight her even more. Her expression becomes more serious. "Why are you following me?"

I answer with my own question. "Why did you keep the Trainer from hitting me?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Just felt like it." She removes her palm, stands, and steps back. She's shorter than me, and when I stand I have to look down at her.

"I'm Cato." I say. She grins again and I can tell she's the playful mischievous sort.

"I know." She states in reply, and I add frustrating as hell to the adjectives I have to describe her. My frustration just makes her happier, it seems.

"I'm Clove."

After that day she no longer avoids me, in fact she's an almost constant in my life. Cato and Clove. The names sound good together, and I don't realize until much later in my life, how true that is.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Well? What do you think? :D


	3. Sweets for a Sweetheart

Note: Okay so this was actually started for the prompt Rambunctious because Clove was going to get all hyped up.. but when I started writing it, the direction and the mood of the fic kind of leaned away from it, so I had to change it to writer's choice.

This is out of order and happens when their older but before the Games (obviously!) I should have it done by Valentine's day but I was sick. :( Hope you all enjoy it anyway. It's pretty sappy, and pretty much nothing else.

**Title: Sweets for a Sweetheart**

_Prompt: Writer's Choice (Sweet)_

It's Valentine's day, it's a tradition that Clove told me about, something she read in the archives, and I know she's not asking it of me, but I've been saving for months and have enough to buy her at least something small.

Chocolate does not come cheap in District 2, not for those who work in the quarries, not for those who don't work at all. It's not something I could ask money from my parents for. Not that they would give me money for anything else I asked. We just simply don't have it.

But we've, Clove and I, have walked past the shop a few times and I always see her glance at it out of the corner of her eye, but to my knowledge she's never gone in. She doesn't have the money either and she's not the type to waste time on frivolous things.

I, however, am the type to waste time working to buy her said frivolous things. It's been hard, not letting her catch on though. She's asked me several times asking why I've been doing extra jobs, small things that pay next to nothing. There are times I've caught her following me too, and I'm sure there are times that she's followed me and I've not noticed.

I had made sure she was at training when I made my purchase. It had been.. uncomfortable for me. The employees gave me 'the look' as soon as I walked. By 'the look' I mean the one that says 'you aren't supposed to be here.' Or 'be ready to call the peacekeepers.' It made my spine stiffen although I agreed, I was uncomfortable standing there amid the confectionaries. Many of the sweets looked delicate, spun sugar that could break with a touch. But I wanted none of that, I knew what I wanted to get her.

Now it's just the matter of giving it to her. The box has been stuck under my jacket and I hope what's inside it hasn't melted. I lead her away from the village, on the look out for the peacekeepers, but they don't usually bother too much with the boundaries.

"Are we going to spar?" she asks, a small bounce to her step at the idea.

I repress the smile. She has yet to pin me since that day when we were seven in the marketplace. Strength isn't her strong point, but she's been working on catching me off guard.

"No," I say and want to continue, but I'm not sure what to say without looking like an idiot. I hate appearing like a fool. Maybe this was a stupid idea. I stop, and she does as well and looks up at me, green eyes questioning.

"Cato?"

I reach into my jacket, pull out the box, and thrust at her and say, "Happy Valentine's day," though it might have come out as a mumble. It might have sounded something like "AppayFlentineay." She looks shocked for a moment, then awed, and then guilty all in one flash of a moment.

"I haven't.." I know what she's going to say and cut her off by pushing the box into her hands.

"I didn't expect you to. Open it."

She doesn't argue and I can see that the guilt is still there, but it's overwhelmed by the excitement. Gifts are not common for either of us. We had exchanged small things over the years during other holidays, but they've never been a holiday made specifically for lovers. I'm sure if it weren't dark, she'd see my blush. We're not lovers yet, but we're in love. It's not something we can express though. I quit thinking along that line of thought. It only angers and frustrates me. Those emotions don't belong in this moment.

She opens the box and all the hours of extra work after or before training are worth the look on her face. Inside nestled in the pink tissue paper are four pieces of chocolate, their outsides lacquered in color so that they look like shimmering jewels. I want to give her a jewel someday, I've seen some of the richer women wear them.

"Oh." She says, her fingers hovering over a truffle colored gold.

I laugh. "You're supposed to eat them."

"Share them with me!" she says looking up at me with a look in her eyes that never ceases to take my breath away.

"I bought them for you.." but she's already picked up a piece, carefully putting the lid back on the box, and setting it aside. I'm puzzled for a moment, because despite her words she hasn't picked one out for me, but then she's placing the chocolate between her lips and raising them to mine, and I get the idea.

I lean down, my lips covering hers, teeth sinking into the chocolate. It's a burst of taste in my mouth that's hard to describe, because I don't think there's words for it, and there's excitement coursing through me for how we shared it. There's a smile on her lips as we pull away and savor the chocolate, before our lips find each other again and we exchange kisses that taste even better than just the candy.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The end! What did you think? :D Please review! Thanks much!


	4. The Same Way

Note: Hi everybody :) First of all thanks for your reviews so far. You have no idea how much they push me to write more. Such a motivation! This chapter is from Clove's POV and details her side of things in the first chapter: Never Seen Green. I'm not sure how much I like how it turned out, but I have to figure out of 100 one shots I'm not going to like a few. :( Read on dear readers!

**Title: The Same Way**

_Prompt 043: Obsession_

At seven I don't know what the word obsession means, only that I've been watching Cato for a long time. Okay, for the past few months anyway. I don't think he's ever noticed me. There's not much to notice I have to admit. I'm not very strong yet, but I am accurate with the throwing knives and decent with a throwing spear.

I've noticed him though. He's one of the bigger boys in class, but he mostly keeps to himself. There's something about him, and I'm not sure what it is. So when his trainer goes to hit him with the training sword again, I don't even think about it before I throw my knife.

I feel victory not only at the knife hitting it's mark, but that Cato's sword has hit it's mark too. We'd make a good team I think. But my trainer is scolding me now and I have to pay some attention to her, or I'll find a welt on my own skin soon.

"Is your aim _that _poor?" she asks, but I can tell she knows I did it on purpose, and she doesn't really care. It wasn't her that I hit.

I try to look bashful anyway, but I'm afraid that I don't quite pull it off. "It slipped!" I tell her. I look over to Cato and I can't help the feeling of achievement welling up in me. He's looking right at me. Not through me like he does most everyone else.

A shift of movement to his left catches my attention though and my eyes widen and I feel much like a deer paralyzed in the face of a hunter. The sword trainer has my knife and the look on his face is anything but friendly. I know his aim is as good as.. okay I'm not that egotistical, it _is _better than mine, and that he can choose a spot that can kill to aim for.

Children have died in the training grounds. Their families grieve, but they don't rebel. District 2 is not known for rebellion, no matter that their children are brought up as warriors or as workers in the quarries.

But Cato does the most wonderful thing.. he returns the favor I've given him, by striking out at his trainer. My breath catches in my throat and I can't help but feel apprehensive. I want to shout at him for being so stupid, but he says something to the trainer that obviously amuses him as he tosses the knife.

"Well. Go and get it." The knife trainer snaps. I do as she asks without another comment, but I can't help one last glance toward the boy who I've saved from a wound, and who has saved me from the same.

I don't know if I'm obsessed, or even if I know what that really means. I only know I want him to feel the same way I do.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

As always.. Please Review! :D I 3 Reviews and I 3 Reviewers. You are awesome.


	5. Like Cato the Younger

Note: Okay so this is angsty. And it's kind of an exploration of what might have happened if Cato and Clove had made it to the end, and the announcement was made that only one could win after all. When researching Clove and Cato's names, I came across Cato the Younger which is a small inspiration of some of the events of this one shot. Quote at end pulled from wikipedia, quite from templesmith from the Hunger Games of course!

Title: **Like Cato the Younger**

_Prompt 083: Weapon_

Our heads snap up as the cannon booms. The world is still, and then a goofy grin breaks out on her face, and I know mine must match.

"We've won!" she shouts, standing and spinning in a circle, laughing.

I join her and suddenly she's thrown herself into my arms. She buries her head into my chest, and I can feel the wet of her tears. I hold her to me closely. It had been a stressful last two days, playing the waiting game. But the waiting was over now.

Or maybe not. There's still silence, no trumpets, and Clove stills in her arms, noticing it too.

"Why?" she begins to ask, pulling away and that's when Claudius Templesmith's voice fills the arena.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner maybe allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

We stare ahead for just a moment, as if waiting for the man to step out and tell us it was all a joke, a final cruel jab for the audience. But there is only silence again.

We react in a flurry of movement. She pulls her knife and I drop my sword because she's not throwing at me, she's tilting the blade toward her own neck. "I WON'T GO BACK! I WON'T!" she screams, and I tackle her. "Stop Cato! I can't!"

I ignore her as I grab her wrist, but she twists and turns and for the first time since we were seven she actually bests me, pinning me for a moment. A moment almost too long as she's already started a cut. I draw my arm up and my fist slams into the side of her head. I don't pull the punch. Her eyes are wide with something like betrayal before they are hidden by her eyes as she slumps over me. The knife scrapes along her skin but it's not life threatening.

I breathe heavily, not wanting to move, but I know I must. I roll her off of me, and as I stand grab the knife from her now lax hand, throwing it into the woods in one angry movement. I go to grab my own weapon, that I dropped in our previous celebration. That perfect shining moment of all our dreams come true, ruined just as quickly. I wished we could have forever lived in that moment.

"You win," I say, clearly. And I'm not even sure if I'm telling Clove, the Capitol, or just life in general.

"You win," I say again, much more quietly and even to my own ears it sounds like despair. I wonder if they, the audience, the Game Makers, the whole world, think I'm talking to myself.

My sword is in my hand and I walk on quiet feet to stand beside her. Her chest raises and falls, and where I hit her is already beginning to bruise and rise.

I kneel down beside her, and reach up to my own neck where my token is strung on a piece of leather, I pull the knot and remove the item from it. I grab her hand, and place it in her palm, wrapping her fingers around it. One last kiss to the knuckles, a pause in which there's so many things I want to say, and reminders of things I've never said to anyone but her.

"I love her." know they can all hear as I stand and look down at her one last time, taking a step and then another back. I raise the weapon and can almost feel the audience suck in a breath in anticipation of the kill.

They're wrong. Only I, and maybe she, knows what I'm about to do.

I wonder if they like Caesar will say, _"__Cato, I grudge you your death, as you would have grudged me the preservation of your life."_

And like Cato the Younger, I fall upon my own sword.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Well, what did you think? How do you think Cato and Clove would have handled it? I'm going to write a follow up to this of Clove waking up the victor. Sound interesting?


	6. Soft, Gossip, Repel, Platonic

Well obviously I've not written in a bit. I got a little discouraged I guess you could say. :/ Anyway I've decided to hurry these prompts along. They're going to be short and more than one prompt per chapter. If I feel like there's more story to tell, they'll be longer and have their own.

If you do find a prompt that you would like to see more of, please review with the word and I'll consider making it longer.

**Soft**

Clove sometimes tells me that I'm too soft hearted to make a tribute or a Peacekeeper. Usually it's when we're sparring and she wants to catch me off guard, but I sometimes wonder if she believes it to be the truth. There's one thing I do know though. She doesn't know that she's the only one that will ever see it. I could care less if the rest of the world burned, as long as she didn't burn with it.

**Gossip**

They're gossiping about us. Looking at us as if they know our secret. When we enter a room, the whispers hush so we know we're not paranoid.

**Repel**

I try to make her hate me, it's too dangerous for her to do anything else. She sees through my ploy though and we come up with one of our own.

**Platonic**

We try to make them believe that our love is platonic, like we love each other as siblings. If they believe that.. they're idiots, because I don't think we're that good at acting.


	7. Capitol

Note: this happens after the chapter: Cato the Younger, when Clove wakes up to find herself the Victor.

**Capitol**

After I wake up and remember everything that happened I scream and rage and they call me mad with grief. Some tell me of Cato's last words as if it might comfort me. They don't know it makes me hate them more. Or maybe they do, because I tell them to their face. They just look at me sadly and whisper about that damned grief to each other.

In those moments I hate Cato as much as I love him. My fingers curl around the token he gave me, and it's rounded edges dig into the palm of my hand. I had another breakdown when they gave it to me, which led to more sedation.

When I came to again and opened my eyes to stare at the small token on the bedside table that's when I started to get my shit together. It dawned on me that I have a purpose, and it's revenge.

Now I sit and watch the recaps of the games, I see Cato's death and my eyes burn. Maybe it's with tears, maybe it's with hatred and anger. It doesn't matter. The Capitol will burn next. I will set it on fire, and I'll laugh as the ashes of it falls upon all of Panem. A world without Cato is Hell, I'll make the rest of them live in that world too.


	8. Color, Birthday, Bound, Furious, Gold

Note: Here are some more prompts. Small, I know, but I like some of them. :) and it's kind of refreshing to write this way instead of writing a whole story around a line that pops into my head that begs to be written. Beware of OCCness.

**Color**

She loves color, loves red and green and yellow. But we are going to be forced to wear white. I want her to only wear white once in her life, not for the whole of it. I want her to wear it for me.

**Birthday**

We don't celebrate birthdays in District 2, and it's not only because we don't really have the money. Well, that's not true, the not celebrating part, we celebrate the 12th and the 18th birthdays, anything before that is just leading up to, and everything after doesn't matter. Although for us, it does matter. It's her and my 18th in a couple months, and then maybe it will happen. We've decided not to join the Peacekeepers. We talked about it six months ago when I gave her the ring she's now wearing beneath the collar of her shirt on a necklace made of twine. We just have to get past this Reaping.

**Bound**

I'm bound to her in ways that cannot be seen. They call her name and I volunteer. And no one is shocked, not even her though, because she would have done the same.

**Furious**

"WHY DID YOU DO IT?" It's almost funny how high her voice is. It's squeaky because she's trying not to be too loud, but a whisper doesn't work when you're ready to kill someone for maybe sacrificing their life for you. But then, I'm angry too, because I know she isn't surprised, that she had expected it, and that she is being selfish in wanting me safe.

"I won't let you leave me behind!" Even though we know only one can go, we'd rather be the end of each other then to be the one left behind by the other because of something outside the two of us.

**Gold**

They came with the trinkets and he says he already has his token, showing the ring he'd given me just months before, now around his neck, though I know it will be on mine later. But this is my chance to give him something.

I give him a clover made of gold. For luck and for memory.

**Breakfast**

We take breakfast together, and pretend that we are not on our way to the Capitol. There is no Gloss and Glimmer. But the pretension is a lie, and it's hard to overlook the fact one of us will die.

**Closer**

She comes to me at night, when our 'guardians' are asleep.. or let us pretend that they are asleep. I don't' think that they care to be honest. What could we do now to screw up our chances in the Games? I think no more of it as she climbs into bed with me, pressing her body against mine, my arms pulling her in tighter. We come closer and closer and know it's wrong. It doesn't matter though. I hold her closer and closer still, till there is no space between us.

**Daylight**

We hold each other until it's daylight and I have never hated anything as much as I hated the sun rising.

**Gray**

She loved colors . .blue green yellow, and I loved them because I loved her. But now it's all Gray.


End file.
